


But he that dares not grasp the torn should never crave the rose

by Elizabethtudor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, English Nerd Alert, F/M, Inspired by Poetry, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 11:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabethtudor/pseuds/Elizabethtudor
Summary: It was supposed to be an elective credit but Rey somehow finds herself lost in the eyes of a troubled English major called Ben Solo.





	But he that dares not grasp the torn should never crave the rose

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/DanaSchwartzzz/status/1064643636237881345) but it kind of got out of hand and became a self-indulgent fic based on my love of poetry.
> 
> Unbetaed and written while in the middle of an insomniac episode so please forgive errors!

Up until two days ago, Rey Niima had no understanding of what it felt like to have a broken heart. Sure the concept was familiar. After all, what millennial hadn’t spent a good portion of their life crying over Taylor Swift songs when your crush inevitably got with other (prettier) girl? She may have been raised in foster care but she was no heartless beast. But times change. Taylor Swift no longer writes about being jealous of the pretty girls who get the boy. Rey thought she had moved on too. But then came Ben.  
Rey had never really been interested in the bad boy. Sure she had what her best friend Finn called an almost pathological need to see the best in people, but her empathy had always been a strength in the past. But Ben… Ben was different. She met him in her English elective at the night classes she was taking at the university. She was trying to get a degree in engineering. She had always loved putting together puzzles. But money was always an issue and she could barely afford to take one or two classes a semester in between her job at an auto shop. When her academic advisor told her she needed an arts elective, she picked the first course that sounded remotely interesting, had no prerequisites, and was at night. That is how she wound up in Poetic Sensibilities. She hadn’t read any poetry since high school. But poems were short and easy right? Completing the readings should have been no problem.  
The first day was a disaster. She ran into class, fifteen minutes late, and tried awkwardly to slip into the back row unnoticed but a man with long dark hair and what appeared to be a permanent scowl glared at her. When it came time to introduce herself and give her favourite poem, she froze. “I mean my best friend has been listening to Hamilton non-stop since the soundtrack was released. Does that count?” She could feel her raven-haired neighbour roll his eyes from across the seats. Luckily, the professor was more forgiving when it came to what defined poetry. She sunk into her seat and barely absorbed anything else from the lecture. From that class, she learnt two things: poetry fucking sucks and she needed to change seats fast.  
Unlucky for her, once university students find “their” seat, they are less than willing to switch. The cherry on top of this cake was that her professor liked group work. Which is why she found herself sitting across Mr. Sunshine himself analyzing “The Flea” by John Donne.  
“I mean it’s kind of obvious what he’s doing here isn’t it? He’s trying to get her to sleep with him. He’s a total fuckboy.”  
The man’s face was stone silent. “Did you just call John Donne, one of the greatest metaphysical poets, a fuckboy?”  
Rey blushed. “I mean, he totally is. It’s a solid analysis and I stand by it.”  
“It’s a poem about the artful act of seduction. Donne takes the sexual and the sensual and uses it to convince his lover that they should make love.”  
Rey raised her eyebrows. What kind of asshole uses the phrase “make love?” “Okay but how is that any different than a modern guy sliding into my DMs and asking ‘U up?’”  
“Those men are amateurs. Donne understands the art of seduction in the way that none of his contemporaries did.”  
“So are you saying that you know the art of seduction like Donne?”  
Something twitched in the man’s face. Almost as though he was expressing a human emotion other than disgust or annoyance. “Let’s just say if I was seducing you, you would know it.”  
A flush of sudden heat burned through Rey’s body. This could be trouble.  
***  
From then on, Rey paid extra attention to the man, or Ben as she soon learned he liked to be called. She listened to his analysis of poems and often found herself jotting down his ideas into her notebook. But it was during Shakespeare that she truly found herself lost. She read and reread the sonnets, analyzed the sonnet form but nothing seemed to stick. When she and Ben were again paired to analyze Sonnet 60, she groaned in frustration. “I don’t get it. The sea is death? Or life? And the twist in the end? Completely out of nowhere.”  
“It’s simple. Shakespeare is using a common way of thinking about death and life during the Renaissance: as the sea. The whole point of the last couplet is the turn which is common in sonnet form. His words will outlive him. Shakespeare was big on that kind of stuff.”  
Rey sighed. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for poetry.”  
Ben looked at his paper, his pencil tapping the side of the desk. “You know, I could teach you if you want.”  
“I don’t know,” Rey said. “I’m really busy with my job. I barely have enough time for school as it is.”  
“It doesn’t have to be every week. Just you know before the midterm and stuff. I could even help with your essay.”  
Somewhere, somehow in the deepest part of Rey’s gut, she knew this was a bad idea. She could almost hear the chorus of her moral compass of Finn and Poe telling her to think with something other than her heart and other parts. But she found herself agreeing all the same.  
“Let me give you my number,” Ben said, reaching for her phone.  
***  
Ben’s apartment was cramped. It was a studio with little lighting, a small corner bed, a black couch, a coffee table, and an old TV. But the first thing Rey noticed was the bookshelves. They were crammed with books. She recognized some authors like Shakespeare, Milton, and Keats. But others were foreign to her. Her eye wandered to a stack of multiple copies of one book almost hidden from view with the name Kylo Ren on them. But she was easily distracted when Ben mentioned he had some food coming from Postmates.  
“Food is the way to my heart,” she told him, sitting down on the coach. She thought she detected a hint of a blush on his face but the lighting was truly horrendous so her eyes could have easily been paying tricks on her.  
“I guess my seduction skills aren’t as bad as the fuckboys.”  
“Did my ears deceive me or did Ben make a joke?”  
“I can be funny,” he said. As she started to laugh, he continued, “It’s just that most of my jokes are literary references so no one gets them.”  
“So you’re an English major then?”  
“I’m trying to be. It’s been almost a decade since I started my degree. What are you doing?”  
“Don’t try to change the subject. I’m an Engineering major. The English course is an elective. Why did it take you so long?”  
They were soon interrupted by the doorbell. “Make no mistake,” Rey said as she bounded to the door, “Food may be my number one priority but finding out your tragic backstory is a close second.”  
As they ate, Ben slowly talked. “Well I had what I suppose could be considered a bit of a breakdown in my second year. I wound up hospitalized and took a two year sabbatical. It wasn’t bad in the sense that I hurt anyone but myself. I didn’t know I had mental health problems and self medicated with alcohol like many people do. I just took it too far.”  
Rey nodded along. He looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m mostly fine now. Doing things part time and going to therapy. I got a part time job at a bookstore six months ago… It’s just,” he paused, “sometimes I feel so lonely that my body aches you know? In those moments, it’s the hardest.”  
Rey took a deep breath. Everything felt like too much and not enough at the same time. “I know something about loneliness. My parents abandoned me when I was a kid. For a long time I was waiting for them to come back. But now I know: they aren’t coming back. And even if they were, I don’t know if I would want them too. The loneliness still kills me sometimes though.”  
“You’re not alone now.” His voice was trembling.  
“Neither are you.”  
The tension was electric between them. Rey could feel the desire pulse through her. Her skin was on fire and sensitive to every sensation. It took all her willpower to contain it. “So for my essay, I was thinking of analyzing ‘Bright Star’ by Keats.”  
“A favourite of mine.”  
She smiled. “I’m just having a bit of a hard time with some of the language.”  
“Would it help if I read it aloud?”  
She nodded.  
He opened his book. “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-”  
Rey found herself closing her eyes. His voice was smooth, each word flowing into the next. For a moment, she could imagine herself as his bright star in the dark, cold universe. The desire to feel some sort of contact overwhelmed. She found herself grasping his hand. She was so lost in the moment, she didn’t notice when he stopped reading. She opened her eyes. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She brought her face to his and gently touched his lips to her own. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, a sort of tenderness that Rey had never experience with any of her previous hookups. It was her that deepened the kiss, running her fingers through his long luscious hair. They were both breathing heavily when they came apart.  
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” she whispered.  
“Do you-” his question lingering.  
“Yes,” she told him.  
“Nothing you don’t want,” he said.  
“I want this,” she said and kissed him to prove it. She moved her lips to his jaw, his large, adorable ears as her fingers traced the waistband of his jeans before pulling his t-shirt off in one fell swoop. She paused to admire his chest and the defined muscles. She pulled her own shirt and bra off, desperate to feel the touch of skin on skin. Her jean rubbed against his, the friction delicious and somehow not enough. She could hear him swear under his breath and then suddenly she was lying on the couch, his hands undoing her jeans. “Is this okay?” he asked, his hands tracing the outline of her underwear. She thanked her lucky stars she had done laundry the day before and wore something semi-presentable.  
“Fuck me,” she commanded. He obediently slid his fingers inside her underwear, tracing the outside of her pussy but not quite entering. She groaned, her hands grabbing his neck, tracing down his back. He slowly put a finger in and began to move. Her hands tightened their grip. He added a second finger. She could feel herself filling up, her need to be closer, to reach the edge mounting. With his thumb, he played with her clit, the sensation almost enough for her to come on the spot. “Ben,” she whispered. He increased speed. “Ben,” she moaned this time, not caring who heard. Ben, the cruel lover he was, withdrew, licking the stickiness from his fingers.  
“Benjamin,” she said, “You better not leave me hanging like this.”  
He smiled and brought his mouth down. As he expertly moved his tongue and fingers around her, she swore she could hear the poem he read to her earlier. Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art -. She felt herself being brought to the edge and as she crashed like waves to the pebbled shore, she felt in that moment as if she could die of happiness.  
Later as she lay on his chest and he played with her hair, he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her, “I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”  
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath, / And so live ever - or else swoon to death.  
***  
There was no Facebook official announcement. He only met Poe and Finn one night when he unknowingly was making peanut butter sandwiches after a long sex session. Ben was unlike any lover she had, constantly attentive to her needs and her pleasure. For once, she felt comfortable being in command. He showered her own body with such complete adoration that sometimes the only times she felt safe was in his arms.  
He still took the idea of tutoring her seriously. Every morning she would wake to a text of some poem he wanted her to read. One morning after spending the night (an occurrence that was becoming more and more common), he Postmated her breakfast for when she woke, leaving behind a note instead of a text which simply read “EBB Sonnet 43.” She googled it and then simply texted him “I feel it too.”  
One night as they were lying on the couch watching Netflix, her braiding his hair, she asked him, “So who is Kylo Ren?”  
“Don’t laugh,” he warned her.  
“Okay.”  
“Pinky promise.”  
“Fine.”  
“When I was sick, I really got into tumblr. Something about curating a bunch of posts for the aesthetic you know? Anyway, I made a poetry blog under that name. And it got big. I never thought a stupid pseudonym would follow me into a book deal but it did. It’s a poetry collection.”  
“Can I read it?”  
“It’s kind of dark,” he said. “I don’t want you to be frightened of me. I’m not that person anymore.”  
Rey kissed him. “I didn’t know you then but I know you now. I trust you and I trust your heart. I’m not leaving anytime soon.”  
So he loaned her what he called a piece of his heart. And the poems were dark and angry and raw. She devoured the book, it echoing all the darkest parts of her that she tried to keep hidden. The next time they made love (she had developed his habit of calling it that), she could feel the intensity between them deeper, almost as if they were connected by a string under their left ribs. As they kissed, she sent one idea through and through. I love you, I love you, I love you.  
***  
Yet things fall apart; the centre cannot hold. Rey finished the course with a perfectly acceptable 76. Finn and Poe were going to move out and Rose, a friend of Finn’s, was moving in. Ben was staying over almost enough to qualify as living there, but he refused to give up his apartment. Everything seemed perfect. Then Ben brought her a piece of paper.  
“Please don’t be mad,” he said.  
“You know starting a conversation with a plea not to get angry is not the best idea.”  
“I looked into your parents.”  
“You did what?”  
“I just,” Ben sighed. “You know my relationship with my family isn’t the greatest. I guess I wanted better for you. A way to fix your loneliness.”  
“Ben, you don’t get it do you? You are enough for me.”  
“I can’t be your only. You deserve better than what I have to offer.”  
“No Ben. I already know what’s in that paper. I’ve known for a long time. They’re dead. A car accident,” the tears were coming now, “Yes they are my past, but you are my future.”  
“Am I? It seems all I can do is fuck things up.”  
“But we do this together. That’s what relationships are.”  
Ben sighed. “I think I need some space.”  
“Are you breaking up with me?”  
“No, I just… I just need some time.”  
“So that’s it, huh? You give up on us this easily?”  
“It’s never easy. But right now, I can’t be the man I need to be. I can’t be enough for you.”  
So Rey let him leave, her heart slowly breaking as he shut the door.  
***  
“So let me get this straight,” Rose said as she opened Rey’s third delivery of breakup cake from Postmates, “He didn’t outright break up with you? Just put you on break? That’s way harsh.”  
“I know,” Rey said, stuffing her face with food. “And you want to know the most pathetic part? I miss him. So much.”  
Rose looked around at all the delivery boxes. “Yeah I see that. At this point we might need to dig into our emergency roommate fund to cover all these deliveries.”  
“That exists?”  
“No… but credit card debt is always a possibility.”  
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Rey smiled.  
***  
Two months passed. The wound didn’t outright heal but Rey found herself able to breathe again without feeling a pain in her chest. But then he came back. One day as she made her way back home from class, she found herself staring at him on the doorstep of her apartment.  
“How long have you been waiting here?” she asked.  
“Long enough,” his answer.  
“Did you find what you were looking for?”  
“Yes. It’s right here.”  
Rey rolled her eyes. “Don’t get cheesy on me.”  
“I mean it, Rey. I have my issues. I didn’t think I would find anyone who understood me and loved me for who I am until I met you.”  
“And yet you broke my heart. You told me I wasn’t enough. You left me.”  
“I know I did. And I promise I will spend eternity making it up to you. There is no excuse, no matter my issues. I fucked up. I broke your heart. And I’m sorry that it took losing you to realize how much I needed you. That’s not right. And if you don’t want to let me in, please just let me apologize.”  
Rey sighed. “You’re a dick you know.”  
“I’m well aware.”  
“I missed you.”  
“I know. The Postmates account still forwards to my credit card.”  
Rey laughed, her eyes watery.  
“If I open this door, it doesn’t mean I entirely forgive you. But I’m willing to try.”  
He smiled and held up a piece of paper. “I’m no great wordsmith. But I wrote a poem for you. Maybe I can read it when we go into the apartment?”  
Rey smiled. “I’d like that.”  
And with that, she turned the key and, hand in hand with Ben, stepped into the light.

**Author's Note:**

> Poetry Credits  
> [Title - The Narrow Way by Anne Brontë](https://acacia.pairsite.com/Acacia.Vignettes/The.Narrow.Way.html)  
> [The Flea by John Donne](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46467/the-flea)  
> [Sonnet 60 by William Shakespeare](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45095/sonnet-60-like-as-the-waves-make-towards-the-pebbld-shore)  
> [Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art by John Keats](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44468/bright-star-would-i-were-stedfast-as-thou-art)  
> [Sonnet 43 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (the poem Ben references when he leaves her breakfast)](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/how-do-i-love-thee-sonnet-43)  
> The idea of a string connecting them is based on [this quote by Charlotte Brontë in Jane Eyre ](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/504650-i-have-a-strange-feeling-with-regard-to-you-as) and is one of my favourite reylo inspired classical lit quotes.  
> I quote [The Second Coming by W.B. Yeats](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/second-coming) when talking about how things falling apart in the relationship.  
> And of course, there are some TLJ quotes and Easter eggs but I don't think I need to reference all of those ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.  
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/maggietullivers)


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